


Kisses: Han and Luke

by jessebee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Secrets Revealed, Separations, Slash, Transferred from Tumblr, kiss meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	1. 'I Don't Have The Words Right Now, So...'

 

 

“Kid, I… ” Han stared at him. Then looked away, eyes wide, mouth still open. Looked back at Luke, mouth still open. “Vader? Was your … ? _Vader_.”

Luke nodded.

“I… don’t know what… to… ”

If jagged little pieces hadn’t been flaking off of his heart – again – Luke might have laughed. “Well, you haven’t shot me yet, so… ”

“ _Shot_ you?” Han blinked. “Why would I… ?”

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Be-cause Vader was my… ?”

Han blinked again, then squeezed his eyes shut. “You two _gotta_ _stop_ _doin_ ’ this to me,” he muttered, confusingly, before his eyes snapped open and he leaned in. “Look, don’t be any dumber than you can help, alright? You ain’t him.”

“Han – ”

“ _You – ain’t – him.”_ Han leaned closer still. “I know you. ‘s’not like _you’re_ gonna do a sudden one-eighty ‘cause you found out your bio-dad was a grade-one bastard. That’s not _you_.”

The breath Luke took was full of Han, sweat and smoke and metal. “He was my father. And he – hurt you.”

Han rolled his eyes. “Him. Not you.”

“But you can’t – ” Luke swallowed and looked down. Why was he fighting this hard, anyway? He looked at his hands, curled together in his lap, left cradling damaged right, still covered by the black glove. Covered. Hidden.

Yes, that was why. It was for the best. Even if it shattered him.

“Can’t – what? Luke?”

A touch to his face, and Luke had to look up then as Han’s fingers gripped his chin and pulled, gentle and inexorable. “You think – I’m gonna push you off,” Han said, his eyes narrowing, hazel gone dark gray in the dim starlight. “Space our friendship. Out the airlock or somethin'.”

Luke set his shoulders. “That’s what most sensible beings are going to do: not be associated with Vader’s son.”

The look Han gave him could’ve peeled paint. “And now you’re gonna insult me, too? Been called a lot of things, but ‘sensible’ ain’t usually one of them.” He snorted, and the look softened abruptly into something else, something Luke couldn’t quite read. “And it’s not me, either, is it? It’s you,” he said softly, shaking his head.

Okay, that wasn’t confusing at all. “Han?”

“I’m not leaving you, Luke. Either of you. I’m _not_ leavin’.”

Luke stared at him, felt that earnest gaze and the warmth, the durasteel solidity, of Han’s conviction in the Force between them, and the warmth of skin as well – Han’s fingers still rested against Luke’s neck. So close.

So very close, and so far away.

Gods, but he was tired. “Why?” Luke asked. It seemed, suddenly, about all that he had the energy left for.

Han’s mouth opened and closed again, as though he wanted words and couldn’t find them. Then long fingers tightened on Luke’s neck and pulled, just a little, as Han leaned in and kept leaning.

Luke’s jaw dropped in surprise, just in time, as Han’s mouth touched his.

Warm, gentle, rough-soft – Han’s lips were chapped, but that didn’t matter a split quarter-credit. The contact shocked through Luke like a drop into cold water, waking up every inch of his skin as a shiver flash-flickered though him, head to toes.

It went on forever but it was mere seconds before Han pulled away, far enough to see Luke’s eyes but near enough for his breath to brush, moistly warm, against Luke’s face.

Luke just stared, and he _knew_ he was staring, wide-eyed and stupidly, but …

Han tilted his head, and smiled a small, rueful version of his usual crooked grin. His hand still lay warm on Luke’s neck. “That’s why.”

 

~~ ~~~

 


	2. 'Desperation'

 

 

“ _ **LUKE!”**_

Han's shout cracked down the long hallway, volleying back from the stone walls. But it worked: the dark-clad figure stopped, and that was all the leeway Han needed. He stalked across the space, and Luke, never a coward, turned to face him.

Yeah. Never until now, anyway. _“What in all nine karking hells do you think you're_ _ **doing?!**_ _”_

Luke waited, his face closed, until Han reached him and waved him into an empty briefing room and shut the door, before he answered. “What I have to.”

“Like _hells_ you do!” Han growled, only just managing not to grab the man. The fact that he hadn’t been able to touch him, hold him, make love with him – _anything_ – for nearly two tendays and counting was not helping his control, either. The urge to shake Luke until he rattled fought madly with the need to hug him until he relaxed – he looked awful. “You really think this is the answer?!”

“Han – ” Luke closed his eyes for a moment. “This is the only answer.”

“Like hells,” Han snapped again. “You know goddamn good 'n well that Leia'll forgive you! Kriff, she never even blamed you, because it wasn't, y'know, _your damn fault!”_

“I know she'll forgive me,” Luke said, soft and even. Unreachable behind the Great Jedi Wall. “That's the problem.”

“What?” Kriffing karking hells, Han was going to belt the man, see if he didn't. “Put that in the Basic, will ya, for us slow ones at the back of the class?”

  
“Han.” Luke actually sighed, the first sign of a chink in the Wall. “She can't forgive me, don't you see that? Whatever she actually thinks, she _cannot do that.”_

“Luke – ”

“Han, _think_.” Luke was using his “reasonable explanation” tones now and Han **hated** those. “Once that was known? It would be a public disaster. It would split her support and we'd be lucky if that was all that happened. It would destroy – ”

“ _Luke_ – ”

“ – _it_ _will_ _destroy,_ ” Luke repeated, his voice going hard, “everything she's done. All the good she's created, everything she's accomplished, everything she's built – ”

“ _You've_ built,” Han snapped, cutting him off, and had the momentary satisfaction of seeing his friend rock back. “The _two_ of you, together – yes, dammit!” Because Luke was shaking his head. “She _needs_ you.”

“She – ”

“Luke.” This time Han did grab his shoulders. Luke met his eyes, and Han leaned in close. “ _I_ need you.”

The chink widened, cracking the facade, and then it was Luke – not Jedi Skywalker but _Luke_ , _his_ Luke, looking back at him. “Han, don't,” Luke whispered, his eyes suddenly very bright. “Please. I _have_ to – Don't do this to me.”

Han cupped Luke's face with both hands, and kissed him hard. “Whatever I gotta do,” he whispered against Luke's mouth, and the words cut at Han's throat like broken glass shards. “I will do whatever goddamn thing I have to do, to make you stay.”

Luke was Jedi-still against him.

Then he wasn't, and there were hands in Han's hair and Luke's mouth locked onto his, kissing him hard, kissing him, holding him like Han was the last solid refuge in a galaxy gone mad.

He'd won. Oh gods, he won, Han had won and the relief nearly took him out at the knees, _oh Luke_ _–_

As if he'd heard that, Luke pulled back and pressed their foreheads together, and pulled in one deep breath. “I love you, Han. Force, but I love you; never, ever doubt that. _Don't follow me.”_

When Han could see again, hear again, _think_ again, he was alone.

Alone.

Han groped for the wall, found it, and slid down it to the floor before he just fell over. The ache of hitting the stone registered, but dimly, like something a full parsec away.

He couldn’t breathe.

_This … must be what dying feels like._

 

 


	3. 'In The Dark'

 

Han was still there when Luke woke up. Which delighted him but surprised him as well, because the only times Han wasn't moving, wasn't _doing_ , were when he was asleep.

Which he wasn't, Luke felt that clearly enough. _Of all the uses for the Force, I doubt Master Yoda envisioned this one, in quite this way._

“Hope that's a good smile.”

Luke opened his eyes. The cabin was quite dark, still in sleep-cycle setting, but there was more than enough equipment glow to see by. Han was watching him from bare inches away, all bed-hair and too-sharp eyes. Happiness and apprehension flowed off the man in nearly equal proportion. “As opposed to… ?” Luke asked.

One corner of Han's mouth pulled up. “The 'what the karking hell have I _done?'_ kind, maybe?”

“Oh, I know exactly what I did,” Luke said, yawning, and couldn't resist adding, “and who.”

Han's smile flashed out at that, a crooked white gleam in the dark. “And you're not running outta here screaming, either, so that's a good sign.”

Luke wasn't awake enough for this yet. Barricaded behind years' worth of fortified walls, Han's insecure streak peeked out rarely but always at the damnedest times. “No running,” Luke murmured, untangling his fingers from the bedclothes and sliding them up Han's arm and around the nape of his friend’s neck. Han's skin was so wonderfully warm. “C'mere.”

The slightest pull and Han's mouth was on his. Velvety-soft and firm, enticing, the flickering tongue a seduction Luke had no thought of refusing.

He'd wondered periodically over the years what Han would be like in bed, if that sinuous Corellian strut translated into confidence between the sheets. He'd figured there'd be knowledge, and a wealth of sure experience to back it up. Hells, the first time he'd met the man, Han'd had a woman on his arm and a happy-looking one at that, even if she had been a barfly. What he hadn't expected was care, and gentleness. He should have, though. Luke had known Han for more than five years; he'd seen Han with the beings he loved.

He'd just never, somehow, applied that to himself.

Han kissed him with a slow, thorough sweetness, and the depths of emotion Luke felt from the man threatened a sting in the back of Luke's eyes. “No running,” he whispered again when Han eventually ended the kiss, backing out with soft pecks, nibbling Luke's lips and chin with a tender delicacy. “That means you, too.”

Han leaned up to fix him with a mock-indignant look. “'s my cabin, Luke, where would I go? No,” and he was serious again in a heartbeat. “If there's running, we run together. You are stuck with me now, kid.”

Luke smiled and it felt brand-new, like something Han was teaching him all over again. “That's good,” he said, and pulled Han back down.

 

~~~ ~ ~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Three shorts from the first go-round of the kiss meme on tumblr. They needed a home :-)


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